


Peregrine

by sceawere



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: 18th Century, Colonialism, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, Revolutionary War, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: Ben's wife is recruited behind his back and he only finds out when she has to rescue him.





	Peregrine

 

“Turns out your wife’s a spy, Benny boy. How about that?” Caleb had thrown out, punctuating the end of the statement with a long draw of his flask.

It had taken a while for Ben to wake up once you’d dragged him back to camp, the dehydration and exhaustion taking quite the toll on his body. Dropping him against the ground a few times likely hadn’t helped his recovery, but he’d been dead weight, you had a blown-out ankle of your own to worry about, and four miles was a long way to walk through rough forest while trying to stay silent and invisible. To have only fallen down two embankments with your unconscious husband slung around you was a victory in your eyes.

It was meant to be an easy mission, as far as spying missions into enemy held territory go. In and out, grab and go.

For what remained of the ‘civilised world’ – the people who didn’t live in muddy war camps and hide in the brush from men with guns – you were but a poor, put-upon woman who had to suffer under the knowledge that her husband, estranged husband for appearances, had run off to join the rebels. It was a surprisingly efficient cover. You’d assumed people would shun you when you’d arrived at your aunt’s house in the city soon after the start of the war, that they’d stay well away for fear of being stained by association. Mostly, they expressed pity and condescension.

Ben had wanted you far away from the lines and the lying. Away from the battles and the business. Your aunt was known to be if not a modest loyalist, then at least an uninterested party, and she lived in a safe territory. In a house, not a camp. She had a pension to live off, food on the table at the same hour every night, no worries about supply lines or ambushes in the darkness. Somewhere for you to wait out the war, to weep in peace.

You’d tried to stay anonymous at first, tried to keep your hood up, and your head down. But the whispers found their way, and once your married name was known to those with names of their own, silence was no longer an option. Loyalties were questioned. Stories were concocted. Perfect expressions of naïve sorrow were adopted.

It turned your stomach to have to lie about your husband, and so your aunt never made you. She let you bow your head at their questions, let a maternal hand fall softly at your shoulder. It was a wonder to watch her performances, to see how people withered and soared under her hand, like marionettes who couldn’t spy their own strings.

She’d don a stern but concerned look, wax lyrical on the ordeals of war on women, on how all you’d done was make a good marriage as a young girl, on how as soon as you’d realised what was happening you’d fled to the safety of the city and kept out of the rebel business as was proper.

 _Oh, but I apologise, of course. Oh, but I never meant. Oh, but I only repeated that which I had already heard._ They’d reply, flickers of panic in their eyes at her rolling tone, stern and whipping even in its softness.

‘Sometimes even I’m not sure what you’ve said in my defence you turn the words over in so many ways’ you’d told her, and she’d laughed.

‘The more you say, the less they usually listen. They don’t want to admit to themselves that they haven’t understood, or that they were mistaken, or that they were God forbid, wrong about something. Their care for their image is far too easy to exploit’

You’d put your aunt’s lessons to great use once all this had started. Played your part as the weary half-widow. Neutral and null. Innocent and innocuous.

An expected reply of low hums and mumbles always followed her ambiguous statements, furrowed brows and concerned clutches to stomachers, before the charade was accepted to have been performed, and the conversation moved on.

It was a well-worn routine by now and you’d slipped surprisingly well into the role.

‘You stay vague, and they fill in whatever scenery they wish to see behind your words’ she’d instilled in you ‘You keep your head high, and your trust closely guarded, and try to flow with the wave, lest it drown you’

You thought back in times like this to something she’s said when you were little, distressed over your brothers fighting in the yard.

‘Oh sweetheart, let them battle each other until one of them can stand on the hill and feel like a big boy. When they look down they will see all the things you have planted while they were busy being fools, and realise they have nothing to show for it but their muddy clothes’

You assumed she held much the same sentiment now, given the way she kept her head high, and her trust close, and her eye on her ledger, rather than on the battle line that lay but few hours travel from the house you inhabited.

But your eye had been firmly on the line. Your ear on the whispers that spread through the parlours from army wives, and from maid to maid. Your heart on a shadow that passed through the night, hoping that it wasn’t only the spirit that would find you in future. Once all this nonsense was over. Once sons and brothers and husbands had come home, to look after their own.

‘I have to see him. I’m losing my mind, stitch by stitch, by stitch’ you’d stabbed aimlessly at the fabric before you to punctuate your words, dropping back into the chair with a heavy sigh as she eyed you.

‘Well, Mrs Burke has been so ill, I’m sure she’d appreciate the company” she suggested, eyes on her own work.

Your hand stilled where it had been tracing over your lips. You flopped your arm down over the edge of the armrest, squinting over at your aunt.

“Mrs Burke died three days ago” you said, emphasising the date.

“Oh, well we don’t know that, do we dear?”

“You read the letter to me!”

“Oh, well they don’t know that, do they dear?”

You laughed, slumping down further into the chair. The dog had curled up between your hip and the edge and he whined when you jostled him. You cooed down at him, moving the hoop away from his little head so the needle stuffed into the work wouldn’t catch him should he move.

 ‘Auntie, are you suggesting we concoct a fictional act of kindness, so I can go to visit my rebel husband behind the line, risking all our reputations and future security should we be discovered?’

“Well, if I was dear, I wouldn’t have explained it out for all to hear” she pursed her lips, looking up as she pulled a stitch through. She sighed as she noted you slumped in your chair, but didn’t scold you, and you smiled to yourself.

“I have suspected Freckles as a spy these past weeks you know” you whispered conspiratorially, patting the dogs head when he whined by your side. She tutted back at you but stayed quiet. You picked up the dog, cuddling him to your chest as you walked about the room.

“How would it even work?”

-

Mrs Burke’s house was in fact empty, her body buried out in the yard beneath the old tree. It would take some time for her estate to be settled, her family scattered as they were, the war getting in the way, and so no-one was there to notice you swerve around the house and set off into the woods instead.

You’d gotten word to Caleb that this would be the meeting place, but he was nowhere to be seen, and the sun was already moving down in the sky. You huddled your cloak around you, moving into the cover of a tree to avoid being seen from the track. Eyes one way, and the other. Your hand moved down to pull your knife out of your skirts, feeling more comfortable holding it ready in your grip while you were out here alone.

Bird song. The sway of wind. The babble of a brook off through the treeline. The hum of your breath. The settling of the house behind you. The crack of a branch.

You swung around, putting the tree at your back as your eyes darted about. You adjusted your grip on the knife, keeping it hidden beneath your cloak.

A shadow caught your eye, out in your periphery, by the house. You squinted and tilted your head, the ground squelching beneath your feet as you moved closer.

“Caleb? What the hell are you doing?”

Caleb continued his path down the back steps of Mrs Burke’s house, apple in hand, half chewed.

“I was waiting in Burke’s house, where we said. What you doing out here?”

“Waiting where we really said, in the woods, behind Burke’s- please tell me you are not eating a poor dead widows food?”

Caleb stalled in his chewing for just a second, before taking another large bite.

“It’s going to waste” he explained, and you sighed, trying to get your knife back through the slit in your skirts and nearly stabbing your thigh in the process.

“Can we please just get going?” you sighed, turning back to the woods “Where is your horse? Or your boat? Or…whatever means you arrived by?”

He came up behind you, took your arm, and began to lead you off to one side. You sighed, tucking yourself into him after a moment, hand latched over his arm as though you were out for a country walk and not skulking about in the shadows.

He threw the core away when he was done with it, reaching into the pockets of his coat. He produced an apple, presented it to you.

“Want one?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, taking it from him and stuffing it under your cloak for later. He laughed, pecking a kiss to your temple.

“Oh, you smell nice. Is that for Benny?” he smirked.

“Some of us just find the time to bathe between special occasions, actually Brewster”

“Oh really, that sounds lovely. I’ve been living in the woods for six months” he snarked back, unhooking arms with you to untie the horse from the tree it was pottering about. You crossed your arms while he worked, looking around the woods for anything that caught your interest. Just in case.

“I can’t believe I ever thought we might be married. The follies of childhood are remarkable”

“We were married!” he bellowed in jest, and you shushed him.

“We were seven! Anna was the priest! Our witness was a goat. It doesn’t count!”

“If Benny hadn’t have gone on that growth spurt, I tell ya” he clicked his tongue, pushing up to get on the horse “You’d be Mrs Brewster right about now”

“Hardly likely” you reached for his outstretched hand, swinging up to seat behind him. You secured your arms around his waist, poking his stomach, and delighted in the laugh that rolled through him. You’d been without your friends for so long.

“Off we go then, Mrs Tallmadge. Let’s get you to Benny before the sun goes down”

-

Ben had not been very happy to see you at first, not that you’d expect him to be. He’d been explicit about you keeping your distance, barely even sending letters in case it jeopardised your safety. You’d get cryptic notes occasionally, disguised within other letters so without scrutiny they would never be known. It tore at you as you traced the letters, the curve of his hand, that this was all you could have until this was over.

You thought maybe Caleb would let on where he was going at least. Give Benjamin some time to adjust to the thought. But his face as you were walked into camp showed otherwise. First shock, then the fire came behind his eyes. He marched towards the two of you, grabbing Caleb’s arm when he walked ahead. You hung back, stood in the mulch of the camp as people stared all around.

Men were sat in the entries of their tents, some bloodied and bandaged. Uniforms were scattered about, hung drying over tree limbs and tent poles. Most down to their shirt sleeves even in the chill of the evening. Fires were already lit, darkness barely holding off the horizon. Ben was still hissing at Caleb when you caught sight of a man across the way. He was stood just inside a large tent, entry pulled back on one side. Men were scattered around a table, passing slips of paper back and forth, moving things around on the surface. Battleplans, you assumed. The man held your gaze, the paper in his hand forgotten. You turned your head back to your husband and friend, aware that the man did not move his own gaze for a few moments.

Ben sighed, jaw steeling at whatever Caleb had said back to him. It had worked in soothing him slightly, because he stepped away from the argument and instead towards you. He took brisk steps, pausing just before you to bow. Your lips twitched at the formality, ever the gentleman as he was. Ever the proper soldier he’d become. You gave a curtsy in turn.

“It does suit you. As much as it pains me to admit” you lay a hand on the lapel of his coat, breath caught in your throat. Tears were threatening, the sight of him after so long releasing so much that you had kept bottled up and hidden from the whispering gazes of the city.

He lifted your hand to his cheek, pressing a kiss into the palm. He clamped his eyes shut, rolling his cheek across your skin. You swallowed the tears as you shuffled in closer, trying to keep your propriety when all you wanted to do was pull him flush into you, onlookers be damned.

“Come on” he mumbled, taking your hand in his, turning back to the camp. The men were emerging from the tent, and Benjamin stalled in his progress as he took notice. A deep sigh left him as he moved to link arms with you, much as Caleb had before.

“Sir” he nodded.

“Major” one nodded back, flanked by the man whose eye you’d caught.

“You’re a Major now?” you whispered to him, taking your own moment to be shocked and a little put out at not being informed. Ben looked over at you, then turned his head back quickly, adjusting his footing.

“I fear we are not acquainted” the man spoke, and you tore your eyes away from your husband’s profile.

“General Washington, this is my lady wife” he introduced you, shuffling his body turned more towards you before motioning towards the man “and this is General Washington”

You gave a curtsy, plastering on your best smile, dropped a polite ‘sir’.

“And his Aide-de-camp Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton”

You repeated the action, and he gave his own polite nod. His gaze moved to your husband for the first time and you let out a breath, confused with his attention.

“Neither did I sir”

You’d missed part of the conversation, sure it was Washington asking about your sudden arrival.

“Uh, this would be my doing, actually” Caleb raised his hand, and all the men turned their heads at once. You almost laughed at the action, burying it down, sure they would not appreciate it “Ben’s been forlorn with the absence of his dear wife, sir, I thought it necessary for his health to re-unite them”

You tilted your head at the same time Ben did, rolling your lips to keep from laughing as you furrowed your brow. Whether Caleb being romantic or deferential was more disturbing was in question. Caleb shrugged, moving his weight from foot to foot.

“You did say we were technically on leave this week, sir” he continued, and you frowned for real, eyes moving to Ben once again.

“You get leave?” you asked him later, barely through the flaps of his tent. He waved his hand, asking you to lower your voice, which only annoyed you more.

“A few days here and there with no clear schedule” he defended, and you shook your head “I’d rather not spend what time we have together arguing”

“You’d rather not spend time with me at all, it seems” you muttered as you crossed your arms under your cloak, aware you were paddying like a child but unable to restrain yourself.

Ben sighed, shucking his jacket off and throwing it over a chair.

“Why do you have furniture in here? This is most odd” you looked around at the table, the chair.

“Where am I supposed to work?” he asked, coming over to unhook your cloak for you.

You gave a little whine of ‘I don’t know’, sniffing as you looked up to him. He let the cloak drop back behind you, onto the mat, and brought his hands to your waist.

“I missed you. I really do wish I could have more time with you, but it just isn’t safe” he explained, dropping his forehead to yours. You pushed up onto your toes, hooking hands around his neck.

“I missed you so much I could barely breathe” you whined, rolling your forehead to his temple as he shushed you. He was silenced himself when you met his lips with yours, fingers winding into the lock of hair at the nape of his neck. One hand of his moved to frame your jaw, thumb tracing carefully over the plane of your cheek. He had the start of a smirk on his face as he pulled back, fingers diving down your spine to curl into the laces.

“Maybe you’d breathe better without this”

You pushed further up, kissing him through your giggle, as he started to tug at the ties. Your laughter grew as he pulled back again, brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to undo the knot one handed.

“Oh, honestly!” you released him and turned your back, laughter growing as he gripped an arm around your stomach and slapped at your thigh with the other.

“I’m a bit out of practice, you know” he mumbled into your ear, tracing the shell with his nose as he pulled you flush against him.

“Well, that’s very re-assuring” you tilted your head back to meld into him. He hummed a response, his concentration fully on trailing kisses down the side of your throat rather than at working the laces free. His hand had grasped into your skirt now, pulling it up your thigh just a little as you sighed.

“God, I missed you”

“Is that not blasphemy or…something?” you wound your fingers over his at your waist.

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t become a preacher after all?”

“Right- “Caleb’s voice broke through behind you and you sighed so hard it turned into a groan. Ben released you, making sure to step away as he perched on the edge of his desk. Caleb looked between the two of you as you crossed your arms over your chest, not sure why you felt so exposed given that you barely had a loose lace in sight.

“Before you get into all that” he winked over at you and you sneered at him.

“Caleb- “Ben began, hand running over his face. He looked weary, sounded so.

“She’s here three days at most, and it’s likely I won’t see the sight of her during that time” he protested “Besides, Washy needs you for a moment and I thought you’d rather be pulled away now than later, yeah?”

Ben pushed up from the desk and pulled his jacket back on. You stepped over and made sure to straighten everything up for him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he left.

“We caught up on the ride here, Caleb, what else could you possibly want to hear from me?” you joked, falling back onto Ben’s camp bed. You scowled, sitting back up and re-adjusting the pillows behind you. Caleb swung the chair around and once seated, leant right over to you.

“I want to hear all about what you’ve seen in the city, that’s what”

You frowned, stalling on the bed.

“Looks like Hamilton’s got some ideas about making you useful and I’m here to test the waters”

“Yes, he seemed to have a certain interest in me. But what could he possibly- “

“We’ve been trying to get into the city for weeks. Not having much luck. But you- “you dotted a fingertip to your nose “You’re already embedded. And someone we can trust not to go blabbing to anyone else for the sake of your dear Benny”

“I live there” you corrected “Hold on, you want me to- “

You lowered your voice, eyeing the tent flaps.

“You want me to be your spy in the city?”

Caleb smiled, spreading his hands wide, before resting his forearms on his knees.

“You’ve gone mad. Not that you were much of anything minded before, but this war has done you in, Brewster” you looked from one eye to the other.

“Oh, Tweet” you rolled your eyes at his old nickname for you, given your childhood love for nursing birds back to health on your uncle’s farm “you have no idea”

“Caleb, you can’t honestly think- “

“I think” he leaned forward again “you’re bored out of your skull back there. And you want to help Ben, but you don’t know how. I’m offering you a way”

“I don’t think Benjamin would be very happy to find you’re offering his wife up in this way”

“You were our friend before you were his wife, he doesn’t get sole rights to you”

“No, he does not”

“No, besides. You might want to have a chat with Anna sometime soon”

You watched him carefully.

“She’s been determined to change my mind about the women’s work around here, you get me? She’s doing a convincing job”

“Anna?” you asked, and he shrugged “Ben will never- “

“Why do you think I asked Ben to leave, eh?”

You sighed, sat back on the bed.

“I need some time to think. Consider” you explained, and he nodded. He stood, returned the chair to where he’d found it. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and moved away again.

“You’ve got three days” he called over his shoulder, the tent flowing shut behind him.

-

Hamilton caught you on the way out, passed a note into your hand. You eyed it carefully, turned it over in your hands.

“Last chance to change your mind, Mrs Tallmadge”

You moved your eyes passed the paper to the floor first, before looking up at him. You made a show of tucking the paper down the front of your stomacher, tucking your cloak back around you. You dropped a curtsy, one not quite so deep, and made sure to have eye contact again before you spoke.

“It was lovely to meet you, sir” you gave a smile, and turned to leave.

-

“Turns out your wife’s a spy, Benny boy. How about that?” Caleb had thrown out, punctuating the end of the statement with a long draw of his flask.

Ben let the cup he’d been guzzling from drop to the ground between his knees, his fingers gripping so tight it almost dented the metal.

“What?”

He’d been so confused when he’d woken up; where he was, what had happened, why you were here. You’d cleaned him up while he was asleep, and Caleb had been kind enough to help clean the scrapes off your shoulder where you’d slid into a bristled mess.

You’d sat quietly, rolling your sore ankle, while Caleb explained everything he’d missed. Including the fact you’d been sneaking intel in and out of the city without him knowing.

“How long has this been happening?” his face scrunched up as he motioned with his hands, animation increasing as his grogginess wore off.

“Four months…or so” you revealed, avoiding his probing eyes. He launched up from where he’d been sat at the edge of the bed, almost stumbling in his weakened state.

“Or so?” he questioned, and you leaned around him to shout at Caleb’s retreating figure, silenced before you could begin as the tent flap fluttered shut behind him. You groaned, straightening back up as you realised this was now firmly a domestic dispute.

“Hang on, four months is…” he held his hand out before him, face turned in concentration. You rocked back and forth on the edge of the desk, keeping your head low as he came to the realisation. “You went on for three days about me keeping secrets and you knew this was happening? Well, did you only come to- “

“No! Ben, I came because I hadn’t seen my husband in six months and I wasn’t sure ‘til I saw you with my own eyes you were truly even still with us for goodness sake! I survived on cryptic notes and little else. I really don’t think you have a place to judge. You’re in charge of us all, you’re the spy guy!”

“And yet I didn’t even know my wife was…” he put his hands to his hips, turned on the spot in frustration “Which are you?”

“Well, I’m not going to give myself up _that_ easily, Benny. You should know that about me by now” you tried to turn it to a joke, but he was uninterested in humour.

“You’re Peregrine” he surmised, nodding to himself.

“Well…that was quick” you breathed, adjusting your arms where they were crossed at your chest.

“I was about to say I know you too well but obviously not” he replied, his back still turned to you.

“I love you, Benjamin”

He hummed slightly in response, far away in thought as he digested it all, and you pushed away from the table. You pushed your forehead against his back, hand trailing round to hold over his heart.

“I love you, Benjamin” you insisted. He covered your hand with his, kissing your knuckles.

“I love you, too. But I need you to stop”

“No”

“Yes. This is too dangerous” he turned around, taking your hands in his.

“You’re the spy master, you’ve seen the reports. I have three missions under my belt in only four months! If I wasn’t a spy, you’d be dead in the forest by now! I’m good at this!”

“And I’m grateful for your help but this needs to be the end of it. You’re putting yourself at too much risk. What happens when something goes wrong, and you’re stranded in the city? I’ll want to march an army in to save you and I won’t be able to. I won’t be able to even acknowledge that it happened. You’re putting your aunt at risk, you’re- “

“I wouldn’t even be in the city if you hadn’t decided to join a rebel army and you’re lecturing me about putting loved ones at risk?”

Ben sighed, flattening a palm against the edge of the desk as he went woozy. You flattened your own palm against his chest, the other taking his arm as you guided him towards the chair. Stopping before him, you met his eyes.

“I’m a good spy, Benjamin. I’m a good wife. Now, I might not be a soldier, I might not be able to fight. But I can help. I can help”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re not capable”

“Then why not?”

“Precisely because you’re not a soldier!” he argued, half a scoff in his tone.

“Neither were you when we met! We all find ourselves in very different positions than before” you shot back, and he shook his head, turning away from you “When we met you were a boy with his head in his books, Benjamin. I never signed up to be a soldier’s wife. But I signed up for this. I chose this.

We both made decisions without consulting the other because we thought it was the right thing to do. How can you chastise me for doing just what you had already done?”

“I can’t…” he sighed, flattening his palms against the desk that looked at odds in the tent. You’d joked to the other women it was like bringing a pig into a study and calling it practical. He steeled himself before his admission “I can’t lose you. Not like this. I can’t be there to protect you”

“It’s what you expect me to do” you whispered back, and he tilted his head. His eyes moved up slowly, finally meeting yours. You realised how heavy you were breathing as you swallowed down your anger, falling into the worry you’d wallowed in for months “I’ve been half a widow ever since you rode off. I haven’t slept a full night since this thing started, Benny, I can’t. I can’t bear to”

He straightened up, bringing his hands to trail over yours, shushing you almost silently. You steeled yourself, determined to continue until this was done.

“You can send me away. You have that ability. But if you do it, I will never respect you the same way I always have, Benjamin” you swallowed your fear, your anger, your worry.

Ben sighed, an ever-increasing action on his part, tucking his head down to rest his forehead against yours.

“Please don’t send me away, Benny” you whispered, relenting into the soft embrace he offered.

-

“And you have your- “Ben sighed as you waved the paper in front of his face, reaching out to grab your wrist when you grazed his cheek with it. You laughed as he bent to kiss you, giving you a stern look before releasing you and instructing you to turn around.

“Sunrise on Friday. Any later and I’m riding in to pull you out” he insisted, helping drape your cloak over your shoulders.

“You will not be doing any such thing because you will blow everyone’s cover and throw this whole war out of balance. So, you better get good at what every wife in this forsaken land has done and sit quietly, twiddling your thumbs and waiting” you teased, tying it secure around your collar. You turned with a sigh, eyes tracing over him once more.

He insisted on sending you off for the next mission personally, having grilled you on the details for days and driving you and Caleb mad in his pedantry. There had been an interesting incident where he railed at Hamilton and Caleb for recruiting his wife without his knowledge that had been a sight to see, but mostly your time in camp had been spent studying and reciting.

“One week from today” he reminded, and you nodded, reaching for one last kiss. You lay your foreheads together for just a moment before he led you out into the camp.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a one-shot I wrote for a tumblr request but I've fell in love with the idea and might make it a full story at some point? I feel like I had to condense a lot of stuff that would be interesting to explore in a full story? Let me know what you think!


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